from Heights to high, both an amazing trip

Local theater Man Randy Taradash organized a group to go see the new Tony-winning show In the Heights last night, currently playing at the Curran Theater in San Francisco.

DAMN that is an amazing show! And judging by the video clips online, the touring company may be out-performing the original cast. This is an exceptionally excellent production—score, book, acting, set and direction. You'll laugh, you'll cry, and you'll dance in your seat. At least I did. Others may wet themselves, but that has more to do with the would-be-comic-if-it-weren't-tragic state of toilet facilities at the Curran. Seriously? Knock out a wall and put in some plumbing already. The place is more fitting for a open-ended run of Urine Town.

Better-versed theater critics are all over In The Heights so go read their reviews. I'll just add my voice to the chorus of Bravos!

But I will contribute something new to the theater review—review and recommendation of the after show. After dodging the black-hoodied swarms of WWDC attendees both to and from the performance, we stopped into Johnny Foley's Irish House for a nightcap.

GOD I love San Francisco. We waked into the sound of someone belting out a Journey song with minimal backing and thought they must have started a karaoke night (it was only a Tuesday after all). But no, it was booked entertainment, in the form of a one-tranny band with lights, drums, guitar, harmonica and the works. And by "the works," I mean a bag of slightly green chocolate chip cookies (if you get my drift). She was hilarious, and not a drag-queen funny tranny, but a full on transgendered person sans makeup or, apparently, any gay friends to help her pick out clothes or to instruct her as to the form and use of a hairbrush. This was not drag—neither catty nor camp—rather absolutely absurd, and sublimely San Franciscan.

And she was funny, and immensely entertaining. Not to say that her singing was good mind you, just remarkably entertaining. During one break she spoke lovingly of California and San Francisco (this being an audience of mostly obvious tourists) for its passage of Prop Whatever legalizing medicinal marijuana and the various legal and medical supports for the transgendered community.

She also paused at one point to say, "I want to tell y'all this, before you hear it from anybody else..." (I was expecting the "I'm transgender" announcement here, but that came later) "...I'm really, really high right now."

I believed her.

And then she ate another cookie.

I forget how much I enjoy a good raucous professional tourist crowd too. Maybe it was just the level of geeks/new meat. One rather nothing-to-notice, mid-western guy in a blue blazer was accompanied by an everything-to-notice statuesque six-foot-plus blond bombshell in a corset. The incongruity of the couple was remarkable, in that almost everyone in earshot was remarking. Later, the mid-western guy would compliment me on my boots and engage me in deep conversation about them. This was at the urinal.

The manflesh on display was decidedly not local, and many appeared to be traveling in unnatural packs. These were most groups of guys from the same workshops, conventions /WWDC groups, or business trip. I wondered how many of these men might have a little man-on-man interest while in town (it is astoundingly common based on anecdotal reports and CL ads) but were unable to break free from their pack to explore it. On a side note, there were not that many women out at all so I am not sure what these guys were seeking, other than an beer close to their hotel.

I did think that a good half of these guys (especially the clearly gym-obsessed ones) could get laid in a heartbeat if they stopped by the Castro.

Or you know, my place.